I forgot that I'm me. Being me means that there is no way in hell the fates would allow me four months without a plane flight.

April 2. 9pm flight from NYC to FL.
April 4. 12pm flight from FL to DC.

Turns out there's a big client meeting at our corporate offices in FL that I'm needed at. I get in just before midnight on Wednesday so I'll be down there for 36 hours. Then I'm flying straight to DC for the Tim McGraw concert and a weekend of fun with [livejournal.com profile] dreamtrance, [livejournal.com profile] newdaydawning, [livejournal.com profile] kittenfishlambs, [livejournal.com profile] dj_writes, and [livejournal.com profile] nyborn. But it's nice to be needed. So I'll shut up and get on the damn plane.

Okay. Maybe I won't shut up. It's nice to be needed but I still hate to fly. Perhaps we need a rule that everyone comes to me. Yes.

I told the boss that, if I die in a fiery plane crash while traveling on company business, I expect a suitable memorial.
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